Vows
by alienchrist
Summary: Four years after the Gravitation TV Series, Mika is pondering her strange relationship with Tohma. Marriage has become an issue between Shuichi and Yuki. What exactly is the significance of a single piece of paper? Chapter Three has been posted.
1. Chapter One

Notes: Although I do not support the usage of random Japanese in fanfic for the most part, I've chosen to stay with Japanese honorifics in this story because I believe the usage of them says a lot about the relationships between characters, and there is no real translation for it in English.  I have also chosen to switch between Eiri and Yuki when referring to Eiri Yuki depending on who he is with at the time, and what they would call him, because I think it demonstrates their different views of him as well as the difference in personality.

Hope you enjoy this!  See you at the end of the chapter!

---

Vows

Chapter One

"Mika, are we out of creamer?  Mika, Mika are you even up yet?"

The legendary rock star and producer Seguchi Tohma was famous for many things.  His talent, naturally, his shrewd business practice and unique way of promoting bands, his smile, and his fashion sense.  Perhaps most of all he was known for being slightly mysterious, preferring to allow others to stand out, though everyone knew he was the energy that powered that shine.  He kept his personal affairs extremely closed, including his life with his wife.

One of the millions of things the rest of the world didn't know about the Seguchi household was that Tohma was a morning person, and his wife was not.  Perhaps no one had ever asked, or people found this particular detail to be dull.  However, this situation provided for a rather interesting scene.  Tohma was the one fluttering about the kitchen like a ray of sunshine, preparing both his and Mika's things for the day.  It was he who opened the curtains in their all-too-rich penthouse apartment and bid his wife to wake.

One thing the tabloids in particular would have loved to know is this: often enough, Tohma and Mika slept in different rooms.  They told themselves it was not out of lack of marital passion, but merely out of business.  Mika did not like to be wakened when Tohma came home after working late nights.

It was her personal bedroom that Mika eventually emerged from, looking perfectly made up from her Shiseido red lipstick to her finely tailored Armani pantsuit.  Like her husband, she hated to be seen in anything but her best.  Tohma couldn't think of a time, even after sex, that he'd seen her in a ratty bathrobe or any such thing.  Nothing like that for the princess of the Uesugi family, what would people think?

"I made you coffee," said Tohma.  "I'm sorry, but it looks like we're out of cream.  I put some milk in instead."

"Don't worry about it, that junk goes straight to my hips anyway," said Mika.  "…Don't we have a cook or something that should be doing this?"

"We decided that a cook was a needless expense considering we rarely eat at home."

Mika offered her husband a small smile.  "Oh, that's right.  'We' did."  One thing she really liked about Tohma was how organized he was.  In that way, he was a man after her own heart.  She could always trust him to have the house in order.  It almost made up for some things—not sleeping in the same bed, never coming home, that smile that sometimes she just wanted to crack down the middle…

Tohma smiled back, sipping his glass of vegetable juice.  Neither of them were big on breakfast, possibly because neither of them were very good cooks, so he hadn't made anything.  He'd have coffee once he got to NG.  The vegetable juice was to convince his body he didn't need breakfast.

"You had the nightmare again last night, didn't you?" murmured Mika as Tohma turned his back to her, washing out his glass in the sink.

"Nightmare?" when Tohma turned to face her, he was smiling that smile that fooled so many.  For a moment, Mika thought of touching him, of just pulling him close to her over the counter and kissing him, kissing the hurt away.  At least when her brother Eiri brooded she could see it on his face.  Mika never knew what was happening behind the wall Tohma erected.  "Not really.  It's just, this new band we've signed on is really giving me an ulcer…"

Mika got as far as raising her hand before she realized the folly of her desire.  She poured herself another cup of coffee.  "You shouldn't drink so much coffee, Mika-san, it will make you jittery," said Tohma in that motherly way he had.  It wasn't quite a criticism when he said it like that.  It wasn't quite hypocritical.  It was his miniscule way of showing he cared.

Mika sighed, glancing at the kitchen clock.  "I have an appointment to be getting to.  Dinner tonight?"  At the entryway, she pulled on her boots and a fashionable jacket lined with fur to protect from the winter cold.  The hand she did not touch her husband with seemed to burn and tingle as she pulled on fitted leather gloves.

"I can't tonight," said Tohma.  "Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow, always tomorrow."  Mika didn't realize she was muttering under her breath.  She wasn't quite sure why she was in such poor spirits today.  Most of the time these things didn't bother her so much.  Tohma was just Tohma.  He was kind and gentle and organized and one of the best businessmen on the planet.  To make up for it, he was also very busy.

"What's that, Mika?"

"Never mind," said Mika.  "See you later," she said, "I'm off!"

"Be safe!"

As she stepped into the elevator, Mika bumped into the elevator lady and a tenant locked in a heated embrace.  She watched the elevator lady straighten out her skirts, then gave the young, pretty woman the floor number she needed.

Mika reflected that it wasn't the fact that Tohma never had free time that really bothered her.  She'd married him expecting that.

The tenant, in his suit and tie, made excuses to stand near the elevator attendant.  Mika knew him vaguely; he was from a well-to-do family, working, but very single.  Wedding bells might be in their future, if he loved her enough to ignore his family's complaints.

There they stood, their eyes shining with the secret of their love, hands straining, just barely caressing…

Mika thought about her husband again.  What bothered her about him was nothing about his schedule, but rather, the fact that Tohma never let anyone touch him.  Not even his wife.  It wasn't really surprising, but sometimes she wondered what it would take to break through that wall…and if she even had the tools to do so.

---

The author known as Yuki Eiri sat in the kitchen, reading the morning newspaper, eating breakfast at a leisurely pace and smoking a cigarette.  It was nice and quiet.  Really, it was too quiet.  His lover of four years, the famous rock star Shindou Shuichi, had not made a stir this morning.  This was rather suspicious.  Shuichi was loud in everything he did.  He was loud when he performed, loud when he was happy, and loud when he was sad, angry or frustrated.  He was especially loud in bed.  In the morning, after a night of lovemaking, he was cheerful as a rabbit in a field of… other rabbits during mating season.  He was also much louder.  Yuki was accustomed to his sounds, the sunny, half-coherent, off-key songs he'd sing to himself as he picked out his clothes for the day, brushed his teeth, washed his face, and styled his hair.  He always made a racket.  It seemed like he must slam down the even the tiniest toothbrush to announce to the world, "Hey!  I'm Shuichi, and I'm in a good mood because I had wonderful sex last night!"

Yuki peered over his newspaper.  Golden sunlight streamed through the windows in generous quantities, warming the polished hardwood floors Shuichi tended to skin across in his indoor slippers.   There was no sign of Shuichi.  Yuki frowned, something he did rather often.  In fact it seemed sometimes like his face naturally frowned even when he wasn't thinking about it, so really, the frown on his face just became a little more creased.  To the average eye, the difference wasn't even noticeable, but anyone who knew Yuki would take this as a sign he was remarkably concerned about something.  Where was Shuichi?  The last time he refused to get out of bed he'd had a dangerously high fever and Yuki had to take him to the emergency room.

Much to his relief he saw the hint of a pink head peering around one wall.  Shuichi wasn't any good at being sneaky, even in his footed pajamas.  Yuki went back to his paper and decided that his boyfriend was just plotting something.  It would all come to light soon enough—after all, Shuichi never stayed quiet about much for long.

"How long are you going to just sit there hiding?  I made breakfast, now hurry up and eat our I'm just gonna throw it out." Yuki didn't have to look up to know that Shuichi was slinking into the kitchen, picking up some toast slathering it with strawberry jam, pouring himself a cup of coffee in his favorite oversized mug with a weird little face on it.

"Ne, Yuki."

This was the code word; this meant that Shuichi had been thinking hard about something.  The tiny singer tended to agonize over the silliest, most mundane things, but he was sincere about it, and until he got it up it would eat him up inside like a cancer.  Yuki set down the paper and gazed at Shuichi across the table.  The younger man's face was drawn up in a quiet, thoughtful sort of sadness.  No, sadness wasn't the word.  The word was… disappointment?  "About last night… what I said… You don't have to come to California with me if you don't want to.  I understand you're busy with the new book, and all the tours and signings… and I understand if you don't want to do the other thing… I mean… everything you said made sense."

Yuki rubbed his temples, nursing a headache that was sure to set in by noon.  He'd thought this fight was done with, the decisions final, the apologies accepted, the make-up sex sealing the deal.  But things with Shuichi were never that simple.  "You're upset.  Because I said I won't marry you."

"No, it's not that.  You're right about everything, Yuki, it's just that…"

"What?  Just spit it out, Shuichi.  It's too early to play games."

"Don't you want to show your commitment to me?  I, I know it's just a symbol, and it's not legal here, and it might not even technically be legal there… but I just think it would be sweet… I don't know… to be able to tell everyone we got married."  Shuichi squirmed like a six-year-old in a barbershop.  "I mean, we love each other, everyone knows it… why can't we get married?"

Yuki frowned and watched a tiny column of ash fall from his cigarette onto the polished on the table.  Then he looked up at Shuichi.  "For all the reasons you said… why should we have to prove it?  We know how we feel, hell, the whole world seems to.  Why do we have to prove it with a piece of paper?"

Instead of the whimpering and wailing Yuki expected – Shuichi' typical reaction when his lover told him something he didn't want to hear— Shuichi just went silent and nodded.  "I guess I can see that.  It's just, with Ayaka and Hiro getting so excited over their wedding plans, and Noriko having another baby… I just thought… why can't we have that?  Maybe we can't have a big wedding like Ayaka's parents are planning, but at least we could have our own little ceremony… invite our friends… say vows…"

Yuki gave Shuichi a tender look.  It was a rare expression outside their bedroom, and one that Shuichi liked to think Yuki made for him only.  "This really means a lot to you, doesn't it?"  Yuki realized, not for the first time, how much being with Shuichi had softened him up.  Early in their relationship, he would have scoffed at Shuichi, no matter how much he loved him.  After all, the idea of two men marrying was absolutely ridiculous here in Japan.  Yes, it was true they'd gotten away with coming out on TV, but homosexuality in Japan still mostly existed mainly between the covers of manga.  Though there was a gay rights movement, especially here in Tokyo, Yuki never took part in it, still not sure if he even considered himself to be part of that 'crowd.'  Bad Luck had played for their Pride parade before, but that was the extent of it.  Mostly, people just preferred for gays to be discreet.  That was something Yuki fell into easily.

"Will you at least come visit me while we're recording in Los Angeles?  We don't have to go to San Francisco to get married, or any of that.  But we're going to go to Disneyland and Hollywood and stuff when we're not working on the record, and I'm gonna miss you if you don't come.

Yuki touched Shuichi's hand.  "I'll come to California.  I'm due for some time off, anyway."

Shuichi glanced at the clock.  "Uh-oh… I have an interview today!  I'm late!  K's gonna shoot me!  Yuki!  Why didn't you wake me earlier?"  Gobbling down his toast, Shuichi clamored to get ready for work.  Yuki smiled as Shuichi filled the apartment with noise.  Yes… that was better.

---

"When did you first decide to marry Tohma-san, Mika?"

The question caught Mika by surprised.  Eiri wasn't the type of person to pose such personal questions; especially in a public place like the restaurant she'd taken him for lunch.  She put down her chopsticks, fixing her pale-haired brother with a stare.   Mika was one of few people who could level with Eiri's cold stare, and she was doing that now.  "What kind of a question is that?"  Maybe she meant for it to be a joke, and Eiri just hit a nerve, or maybe she didn't.  Whatever the case, such a question didn't come without baggage from Eiri.  As far as Mika was concerned, nothing ever came without baggage from Eiri.  Really, she was asking his motive.

"Well, I was just a kid when you two got married, but I seem to remember Tohma-san didn't want to at first.  It was an arrangement by his and our parents.  The subject of marriage has come up lately, what with Ayaka-san and Hiro's engagement."

Mika raised a cup of coffee to her lips and took her time sipping it.  She never, ever smudged her lipstick.  "Those two are such a sweet couple.  Her parents can't stand him though— her mother told me, he's a nice boy, but he's so common.  He graduated at the top of his class from a mediocre school, his parents have no money and his brother's an unreliable, unsuccessful actor.  And his hair…"

"You're stalling, dear sister of mine." Now Eiri was just saying things to get to her.  She knew that gentle, mocking tone.  She was the one that taught him it, dammit!

"It's complicated," said Mika.

"Were you in love?"

"Not to begin with."  The real answer might have been 'not ever,' but Mika never asked herself what the real answer was.  It was inconvenient.  Surely Eiri knew he was asking inconvenient questions!

"When did he ask you to marry him?  As I recall, you'd asked father to call off the engagement when he finally agreed to it."

"Things were different then."  Mika picked up her cup again, staring into the depths of the murky brown liquid.  Tohma was right, she'd had too much coffee and now she was jittery.  Her stomach hurt.  "_Tohma_ was different then.  But… I was there for him at a very difficult time."

It was a memory Mika found herself playing over and over again sometimes in the middle of the night when Tohma wouldn't come home.  He'd been so different then, when they were both eighteen…

She had just graduated from the top girl's school in Tokyo.  While on a tour of Ivy League schools over the summer, she decided to spend sometime in New York City.  Though her father had offered to send one of her school friends along with her, she decided to go on her own, relishing a chance to wander city streets without wondering how it would reflect on the renowned Uesugi family.  Tohma was attending Julliard, but he did not invite Mika to stay with him, and even if he had, it would not have been appropriate.  In fact, he had not responded to her since she told him she was coming to the city.  She left a message on the machine, leaving all the details about where she could be reached.  Mika had faith Tohma would call her.  Tohma might have been a man, but he always returned calls promptly.  It was something she enjoyed about him and made her think he might be a good husband.  At the time, she had no idea what Tohma had reserves about this.  They'd known each other since childhood, although not well, and Tohma was always very polite.  Always smiling.  Nothing ever seemed to trouble him.  And he was from such a good family!

Mika remembered every detail of that night clearly.  It was approaching evening, and she was eating dinner in her marble and gold suite after a day of sightseeing, watching as dusk settled down on Central Park.  She was staying in the Plaza Hotel of course, and the wait staff doted on her, pretty, young, rich and influential as she was.  Just as she finished up, she received a phone call.  Assuming it was Tohma, she picked up.  It turned out to be from the front desk.  "There is a man here by the name of Tohma Seguchi… he says he is your fiancé."  Even though English was not her first language, Mika could definitely hear the lady's lip curl upwards slightly at the world.  Mika made mental note of it.  What could anyone find offensive about Tohma?

"Send him up.  Ask him if he wants anything, and if he does, have it brought to my room." Mika used her princess voice, she could turn it on at will, and sometimes, as in the case with the snotty front desk woman, enjoyed reminded people that they were there to serve her.  How dare they treat her fiancé like some bum off the street!

However, the boy that greeted her a few minutes later was much more bum than fiancé.  Mika, like everyone in her family except Tatsuha, was very good at restraining herself, and at that moment it was a very good thing.  Otherwise, she may have just slammed the door in his face.  "Toh…ma…?"

The figure in the doorway was pale, thin, bruised, and shaking.  Tohma was dressed in leather pants and a blue silk shirt, unbuttoned and torn.  It looked like he'd been in a fight; he had a split lip that was still trickling sticky blood down his chin.  Mika grabbed him by the arm and pulled him inside to sit on the davenport, praying that no one who knew either of them had seen them.  In such a high-class place, it was certainly possibly some one might have.

She took her napkin and dabbed at the blood on Tohma's chin.  "What happened?  Did some one hit you?"  Mika couldn't help but notice how shallow and quick Tohma was drawing breath.  He did not respond to the question.  His pupils were dilated to pinpoints, the blue of his eyes not carrying their usual depth, and he was sweating.  "You've lost so much weight…" Mika hadn't seen Tohma since New Years when he came home to Japan to celebrate.  Before, he'd actually been a little bit on the chubby side, not fat or anything close, but with a peasant roundness on his face that made him look like some one's kid brother.

"Oh, Mika-san…" The man speaking to her was not the winsome little brother type she'd known before.  It was someone who had experienced horrible things, who had used his last ounce of personal strength to come to her.  Mika would later understand Tohma's pride, and admire him for sacrificing so much of it to come to her.  At the time, all she could think was that Tohma was going to die.  He was going to collapse there on the fancy embroidered furniture, and she'd be stuck with a skinny corpse pumped full of drugs.  That was the conclusion she came to, of course.  Mika wasn't stupid.  Though she'd been raised in an environment clear of drugs aside from the prescribed kind, she had read about them for health classes and seen them dramatized in foreign movies.  However… she'd always thought drugs were something that only sick people did, people with nothing to look forward to in life and not enough guts to end it all.  There was a lump in her throat that she couldn't swallow away.  She realized for the first time that she didn't really know Tohma at all.

"I'm calling the hospital," said Mika, speaking around the lump in her throat somehow.  It seemed to be growing.

"No, please," said Tohma, shaking even worse.  "You can't tell anyone!  If my parents found out, they'd kill me, they'd absolutely kill me, my father hates me enough as it is, you can't let them know!"

"I have to, Tohma!  You're in trouble."

"But I'll be in worse trouble if my parents find out!"

Mika stared at the wispy figure that was once a boy she knew.  There was a bruise darkening beneath one eye, the color of eggplant.  Tohma's expression registered genuine fear.  Mika was reminded of a dog her grandmother adopted.  Though she could easily afford a purebred of any kind, she picked one up from an animal shelter.  The mutt was scared of his own shadow and cowered under furniture and only ever approached her grandmother.  Mika's grandmother said it was because his old owners were mean to him, and he didn't understand that not everyone was like that.

Mika tried to swallow the lump away again, but it just got bigger and drier in her throat.  She could feel the muscles in her neck constrict and sting.  "Surely… they only care for your safety, Tohma."

"Like hell they do!" Tohma looked near tears now, and he was talking very quickly in a high pitch.  Mika never saw him talk like this again, not even when Eiri killed Yuki.  "They'd probably be happier if I died of an overdose!  Any time my father gets mad, he beats the living shit out of me!  Remember two years ago when I broke my arm and collarbone?  I did something that got me in trouble and he shoved me off the back deck then said I crashed a bike and I don't know how to ride a bike!  I'm not letting you call them, you can't call them!  I swear to fucking God if you tell anyone, I'll, I'll, I'll make you shut up, you'll be sorry!  I'll kill—"

"Shut up, Tohma.  Shut up and breathe.  Here."  Mika shoved a glass of water, left untouched from her meal, into his hands.  Tohma was barely together enough to hold it in two hands.  "Drink that.  I won't tell your parents… stop raving like a madman and let me think for a second.  You can't just show up on my doorstop and expect me to be okay with this.  Look at yourself in the mirror, Tohma."

After taking a sip of the water, Tohma did as Mika bid him.  He stared at the wall across from him, into an ornately carved mirror.  Immediately, sourness welled up in his throat and he bent over, covering his mouth, praying not to vomit all over the rust-colored davenport.  The glass fell from his hand, seemingly in slow motion, and shattered on the floor.

"You're a mess, Tohma.  You're thin as a rail.  You're not happy like this…" Tentatively, she put an arm on his shoulder.  Tohma jerked away, but Mika kept talking.  "I won't let them know.  I'll have it all put on my father's account, and I'll make sure no one ever say a word about it.  I can't believe that you just came here to yell at me like a madman.  You came here because you need me to help you.  Now you just have to let me."

"Ohh, Mika-san." Tohma looked up at Mika with eyes filled with tears, and again Mika thought of her grandmother's dog.  Once bitten, twice shy, wasn't that the saying?  And yet in the end that stupid pet still learned to love some one.  Maybe… maybe she could be…

It was after Mika made the call that Tohma told her.  She tried to hug him again but he wouldn't let her, but he took her hand.  "You're right… tonight… after these guys beat me up… I opened my eyes and realized I didn't have a friend in the world.  I had no one I trusted, no one I could turn to.  Then I heard your message on my machine…"

"Shhh… it' okay.  It's just the same thing any decent person would do." Mika tried to shrug it off; after all, that was the truth.  But that lump in her throat still remained.

Tohma chuckled. "You act like such a brat sometimes, like you don't care about anyone, but deep down inside, you're a very sweet person, Mika-san.  You're some one good that I should keep in my life.  Forever."  He squeezed Mika's hand.  It was a rare feeling, her soft bare flesh to his callused fingers.

"All you had to do was ask, Tohma," said Mika, feeling the lump in her throat shrink to the size of a pebble.  It never subsided entirely…

"Mika.  Mika.  Mikarin!" The sound of a rather irritated man broke through her memories.

"What, Eiri?" Mika snapped at her brother in an agitated voice.

"You were just staring off into space there.  Anyway, the reason I asked you was… Well, Shu-chan won't shut up about the gay marriage stuff going on in San Francisco, you know how obsessed he'll get about stuff and anyway he's pretty stuck on the idea of us getting married even though I dunno if it's worth it…but it means a lot to him… so… I was thinking of maybe asking him to marry me… and we could go have the ceremony while he's in California recording for the USA debut album…"

"Wait.  You're actually thinking about getting married?  Do you want to kill our father?  It's good enough that he's finally excepting Shuichi as your lover and inviting you as a couple to family events—"

"—Not that I have any intention of going to any—"

"But to get married?  It's not like your marriage would even be legal here.  It might not even be legal _there_.  Why bother?"

"Well, Mika, I think that's my own business, don't you?  Why shouldn't I marry whomever the hell I want when the humor strikes me?  Who are you to interfere with it?"  Eiri burned with cold, murderous fire when he was angry, and Mika had obviously hit a nerve.  Never mind that he'd been thinking the same thing this early, this was no longer about getting married.  No, it was about Mika sticking her pretty but prejudiced little nose into every scrap of his business.

"I just want what's best for you, Eiri!  This homosexual stuff, it just isn't you, okay?"  The moment the words were out of Mika's mouth, she knew they were a mistake.  The woman rarely made mistakes, but at this point she could have dropped a bomb on Tokyo and be in less trouble than she was right then.  She swore she could hear the ground shaking.

"I am an adult.  And I love Shuichi, and I will marry him, with or without your permission."  With those words, so calm and yet so livid, Eiri pushed his chair away, stood up, and stalked out of the store.

"Dammit!"  Mika cursed, throwing her napkin down on the table. That storming off bit was something she'd taught him, too!

 ---

The sun was setting and the sky over Odaiba Amusement Park was turning violet, and the day, remarkably warm for mid February, began to cool rapidly.  Shuichi and Yuki walked side by side, hands almost touching but not quite.  Yuki had learned to match his pace with Shuichi, who had shorter strides than he.  They didn't hold hands in public; this was something Shuichi had come to accept.  It wasn't because Yuki had a problem with him, but his proper Kyoto upbringing taught him to practice restraint.  The writer of passionate love stories was shy to express affection in a public.  In a way it was kind of cute.  That wasn't Yuki's most ironic affliction, however, he contained a thousand other contradictions.  Still, Shuichi loved and accepted them, just as Yuki loved and accepted his flaws— overdramatic whiner that he could be.

"Ah!  Look at that view.  After so long, it still hasn't changed."  They hadn't been to this amusement park since their first date, the one that ended so badly four years prior.  Shuichi leaned over on the railing, gazing across the water and smiling over at Yuki.  The salty breeze rustled his hair—dyed pink as was now his signature—and Shuichi took in deep a lungful of the refreshing sea air.  "It was a good idea to spend some time here before I go to California.  This time, you won't run off, will you?"  It was a gentle joke, but not one without pain behind it.  Though their relationship had been mostly solid since Yuki returned from New York, Shuichi still harbored the fear that his boyfriend's past would swallow him up again, and next time, maybe he wouldn't be able to bring him back.  The fact that they were here, treading the same planks as before, made him a little nervous.  Of course, Shuichi was a performer, and not prepared to let his fear show.  "I'm so excited to go to California!  All the things we're going to get to see!  Do you think we'll get to meet any celebrities, Yuki?"  Shuichi had all but turned into a little child for all his enthusiasm.  His eyes were filled with stars.

Yuki just leveled his overenthusiastic boyfriend with a look. "Idiot.  _We're _celebrities."

"Yes, but we could meet Johnny Depp!  Or maybe some one who was in _Harry Potter_.  Or maybe Steven Spielberg!  I'm so excited!  And we can hold hands on the street and no one will think we're weird!"  Shuichi was floating on cloud nine, as if delicate bubbles and splashes of gold and rose surrounded him while he danced in a shower of cherry blossom petals.  "I bet I'll have a million ideas for songs while we're there!"

"You'd better.  I've seen the lyrics you've been working on and all I can say is even after all these years you still suck at writing songs.  Then again, I guess if you're singing for Americans they won't know how bad you are."

"You're cruel, Yuki!" Shuichi sniveled.  "Besides, Sakano-san says I should write all of my lyrics in English if I really want to be successful in the States…"

"Considering your grasp on the language," said Yuki, "You are worse off.  What the hell is 'Spicy Marmalade' anyway?  Did you just flip open your English dictionary and find two words randomly?"

"So cruel, Yuki!" Shuichi whined.

"Anyway," said Yuki, leaning over on the railing, his arm brushing Shuichi's.  He wasn't looking at his lover, but instead, over the water as it changed from blue to a charcoal color.  "Are you still thinking of visiting San Francisco?"

He had one hand in the pocket of his jacket.  In the cup of his hand was a velvet box.  It suddenly felt very heavy to him.

"Yeah, maybe.  I was thinking about going to SeaWorld, so if Hiro or somebody wants to come with me… why, Yuki?  Want to come?"

Yuki tried to say the words, he really did, but the box in his hand was too heavy.  He'd almost got it pulled all the way out before he slipped it back in with a sinking feeling.  He thought of the argument he and Shuichi had, and all of his excuses not to marry.  He thought of all the things they'd gone through together, the devotion Shuichi had shown him.  But an image flashed in his mind, something from when he was eleven or twelve years old.

Mika and Tohma were getting married.  Their family had spared no expense, and they were married in a lavishly decorated banquet hall in the most prestigious hotel in Tokyo.  He did not remember much about the wedding, except that Mika's dress looked like nothing he'd ever seen before, more like a cake or a doll dress than something his obnoxious sister would wear, and how uncomfortable he was in his little tuxedo.  Yuki recalled very clearly being bored and irritated, his father had slapped him upside the head when he noticed his son snuck a book inside, but Tatsuha, who was younger, did not get scolded for hiding under the tables.

He'd averted his eyes when Mika and Tohma kissed (ew!) but looked up just in time to see them turn around and walk back down the aisle, newly announced husband and wife.  For a split second before the cameras went off, Yuki saw Tohma frowning.  In fact, he looked like he might cry.  It was the first time he'd ever seen Tohma frown, and as quick as the moment began, it was gone, and he was smiling as he always did.  It was like some one pulling on a mask…

At that moment he swore he'd never be married.  He was already promised to Ayaka at the time, who was always going on about how wonderful their wedding would be.  Yuki wasn't looking forward to spending a lifetime with some one his father picked out, and this sealed the idea for him.  If getting married was so important, why did Tohma look like he wanted to die?

"What's wrong, Yuki?"

"It's nothing," said Yuki.  "Do you want to go eat?"

"I'd love to!  Where should we go?  I think we should get steak!"

"We can get much better steak in California, and for cheaper," grumbled Yuki.

"But Yuki, you said I could pick!"

"Okay," said Yuki, pulling his hand out of his pocket and straightening his posture.  "Steak it is."

"You're the best boyfriend ever, Yuki!" said Shuichi cheerfully.  And he meant it.

To Be Continued.

---

Special thanks go to my girlfriend, Michelle, for her love and support and not teasing me too badly even though I once vehemently swore to never, ever watch Gravitation; to Michael, for her encouragement and support and to Krystal, for feeding my addiction.

Next chapter: Bad Luck has fun in California!  But can they really get people to treat them as more than a novelty act?  How are Hiro and Ayaka coping with the disapproval of Ayaka's parents?  What is Nittle Grasper up to?  Will Yuki propose to Shuichi?  What the hell is Tohma's problem?  Will Shuichi ever figure out that SeaWorld is in San Diego, not San Francisco?  All this and Ryuichi stepping on a kitten in Chapter Two!


	2. Chapter Two

Notes: Well over a year ago, I wrote the first chapter of this story and finished this chapter. Vows was never intended to be written as anything more than something to just entertain me, but when I found out what an amazing response the first chapter had, I choked. That's the only word for it. Though my original frame of mind had been 'I'm going to write this because I want to write it, I don't care if it's bad, it's still better than most of the crap out there,' I just got over-occupied with what other people might think if the second chapter wasn't up to snuff, and honestly I don't think it is. However, I'm finding myself at a transitional period right now-- and I thought to myself, I'd like to write Gravitation fanfiction again. I miss Yuki and Shuichi and all the rest. And I'd hate to leave something so unfinished. So I'm going to work on Vows again. Who cares if it's a little trashy? That's what I love about Gravitation; despite all its pulpiness it has a heart, and it keeps you reading. As long as I'm having fun doing it, where's the harm?

Vows

Chapter Two

Tohma sat at a blindingly white piano in the middle of a stage. The spotlight was hot, especially in his itchy suit and cummerbund, and he could feel drops of sweat collecting on his brow and crawling down his neck. How could he be sweating rivers when his mouth was so dry? For some reason he was wearing white gloves, and he wasn't sure why. He knew the audience was watching. He knew his father was in the wings mouthing things like, "Sit up straight! Smile, damn it! Prove to me you deserved those piano lessons!"

Just as he peeled the gloves off he realized that he was dreaming again. What had started out as a familiar memory now blurred into horror. His hands were stained with blood. Though he had dreamt this all before, he still felt that overwhelming revulsion that came every time. He ran off stage to wash away the blood, but he couldn't find a sink. He ran outside and found a river, but as much as he scrubbed, the blood would not leave his hands.

Five steps more and he'd be at Kitazawa Yuki's funeral. Even though he didn't want to go, his feet moved without his permission. Besides, it was his duty to show up and say a few words. Like a zombie, Tohma went through funeral with the grace and nobility that people had come to expect of him. He did not waver when he praised Kitazawa as a teacher, even though it was a lie. The worst part was when Kitazawa's mother, an American, hugged him afterwards. At the real funeral he pushed the woman away, but it in the dream she strong enough to steal the breath away from him.

"Thank you, Tohma, for coming. Thank you for everything you did for my son."

He wanted to stay something, apologize for the death of her son, apologize for killing him, or at least inform her she was choking him, but no noise made it past Tohma's lips.

"Thank you for giving him every opportunity. But I guess he made his decision a long time ago, running with that crowd, doing all those drugs. You gave him a ticket to the straight life, setting him up with work while he went to school and he just threw it all away."

The world was starting to go gray. All Tohma could think about was the heaviness of guilt in his gut, he didn't even realize he was dying…

"Where is Eiri, by the way? I thought he'd come. He was always so fond of Yuki. Oh well, I suppose the grief is still too fresh for him. He didn't know the things that Yuki was involved with, did he? It must have come as such a shock when those drug dealers shot him."

But it wasn't Kitazawa's middle-aged mother choking him now. It was some one he regarded much more dearly. It was his wife, the woman with beautiful hair and cruel eyes and lips that had torn many men apart. She was choking him.

"You bastard! You fucking bastard! Look what you did to Eiri! Look what you did! I HATE YOU! I WISH I'D NEVER MARRIED YOU! YOU WORTHLESS, EVIL BASTARD! HOW COULD YOU LET THIS HAPPEN?"

Tohma was no longer sure if his had really happened or not. Those words were true; he remembered reeling at the shock of hearing indecent language from some one who considered herself far too well bred to use it. But had she ever wrapped those beautifully soft hands around his throat? Did those perfectly manicured nails ever grip so painfully into the nape of his neck? "I'LL KILL YOU!"

"Mika…"

"SHUT UP!"

Tohma put his hands on Mika's wrists. "Harder."

"Tohma…" Now her eyes were scared.

"HARDER, BITCH!"

Tohma woke up gasping for breath, caught in a moment of black silence where he couldn't force his lungs to fill with the air he needed. He was sweating. He glanced at the clock. Eight o'clock. As his eyes adjusted to the dimness of the room, he realized he was in his apartment in New York City. Why was that again? Work, of course. It was always work; there was no other reason. Nittle Grasper was doing a talk show circuit to promote their new album. They were a going to photo shoots and interviews for American magazines. Nittle Grasper was making a gamble and releasing their album in Japanese in order to make it to shelves before Bad Luck's debut. So far everything was going very well, although it grated on him how often Nittle Grasper was called 'classic' or something else implying they might be out of date. And if _one _more person asked him what Nittle Grasper meant…

He would smile and explain. Because he was Seguchi Tohma, and nothing ever made it past his friendly veneer of calm collectedness.

After showering and dressing, Tohma wandered into the kitchen to see what could be done about breakfast. He'd probably have to cook. Ryuichi and a stove often resulted in a stern call from the fire warden, and Noriko hated to cook, spoiled by her husband, the famous gourmet. Tohma poured some rice into the rice cooker and started frying some eggs. He noticed a pink bunny peering over the far edge of the counter. "Good morning, Tohma!" said 'Kumagoro' in his cute, reedy voice.

"Good morning, Kumagoro-kun. Want breakfast? I'm making omelets."

"I don't want omelets. I want Trix. Trix!" The toy rabbit bobbed and swayed, joyful at the prospect of colorful cereal.

"I don't think we have any, Kumagoro-kun."

"Trix! Trix! Trix!" Kumagoro gestured violently, as if going into a Trix withdrawal seizure.

"Noriko!" Noriko was always so much better when dealing with Ryuichi, so Tohma decided to call her over and let her deal with the Trix bunny. Plus, he wanted to know what she wanted to eat. Lately it had been hit-or-miss with her, between strange cravings and morning sickness.

"She's on the phone with her family," said Kumagoro, miming a telephone action. "Homesick, homesick. Aren't you homesick? Lonely, lonely. Why don't you call your family?"

"I don't have any calls to make," said Tohma cheerfully, breaking an egg into the pan.

"Liar, liar, pants on fire!" said Kumagoro. "You have a wife, I've seen her! I bet she cries 'cause she misses you, boo hoo." Kumagoro mimed tears. "Tohma-kun, neeee, Tohma-kun?"

Tohma was not looking at Kumagoro. He was intent on the omelet in front of him. He was wearing that impenetrable smile; smiling so hard his eyes squinted close.

Kumagoro slouched over, looking dejected, at least as much as a toy rabbit could. "Tohma's no fun."

---

Usami Ayaka stood on a balcony, overlooking the lights of a foreign city known as Los Angeles. Her pulse quickened as a gritty wind rustled her hair. She'd been to the United States more than once, but always under some pretense. It was hard to believe she was really here of her own accord. Obviously, she'd run away from her parents in Kyoto more than once, but it was never on a long-term plan to defy them. Now, here she was, sharing an apartment with her rock star boyfriend, with a whole ocean between her parents and she. Well, perhaps the ocean had already been there. She hadn't spoken much to her parents since she and Hiro got engaged. They didn't approve, and naturally, took every opportunity to tell her so. They threatened to denounce her as an heir, which, although shameful, would not put her out financially as Hiro's wife. Hiro was intelligent with his investments, and he could do more than take care of her. In fact, the only real reason her parents objected to him was the fact he wasn't from a rich, well-known family. Well, that and his long hair.

Ayaka sighed. Before she met Hiro, she would never have thought twice about the elitist behavior she'd grown up around. After all, people were born into certain places, and whether they liked it or not, they were expected to fulfill their duties. It was their destiny. As the heir of a famous hotel conglomerate, she was expected to marry well so that her husband could learn the business. She needed some one with a good business attitude, some one who had been brought up in that world of velvet curtains and crystal chandeliers. The intelligent, levelheaded Uesugi boy named Eiri was thought to be a perfect match, not to mention how advantageous the joining of their two great Kyoto families would be.

She'd met Eiri once or twice when they were children. Eiri wasn't interested in much more than books. In truth, she spent more time playing with young, vivacious Tatsuha, or playing dolls and dress-up with Mika. Then he went away to school, and all but disappeared. Even when he came back and started making a name for himself in romance novels, he never called her. After years of this neglect and nothing more than hollow, placating remarks from the Uesugi family, she decided to take matters into her own hands…

Looking back at it, Ayaka couldn't believe how naïve and idiotic she'd been. Not that following her heart was bad, but to wander around and just expect to find Eiri's house… She didn't deserve to be so lucky. Here in Los Angeles, she heard sirens all the time. Sometimes she was sure she heard gunfire. Tokyo wasn't as tough a city as LA, but if Hiro and Shuichi hadn't shown up at just the right time, or if they had been some one more prone to minding their own business, she really would have been in trouble. How ironic it was that in her mind she cried for Eiri to save her as those thugs pushed her around, and yet instead she found her real hero.

Ayaka still wasn't sure when exactly she fell for the earnest young man known as Nakano Hiroshi, genius guitarist. With his easy laugh and frank honesty, he was a man that was easy to love. In fact, sometimes she wondered how she ever could have doubted anyone but him could have been her husband.

"And now, our special guest, famous for fueling the Asian Invasion, is Japan's very own Nittle Grasper!" Ayaka was pulled from her reverie by the sound of the television. She stepped into the hotel room, closing the glass door behind her. As she picked up the remote to turn the volume down, she heard the distinct click of the door unlocking. "Hiro!" she beamed.

Ayaka was greeted by the cheerful logo known to everyone as the Golden Arches. Her fiancé plopped it on the coffee table in front of her. "I gotcha a Big Mac, American-style."

Ayaka couldn't help but smile at Hiro. "Hiro, you're horrible, my diet's going right down the toilet!"

"So's mine," said Hiro cheerfully, unwrapping a Big Mac with relish and taking a huge, sloppy bite.

Ayaka crinkled her nose at Hiro. "You are such a boy."

"…Says the girl with special sauce running down her chin. Here, lemme get that!"

"Augh! Hiro, you pervert!"

"And you love it!"

"Euugh! Don't kiss me with hamburger still in your mouth!"

"I'll kiss you however I want!"

The tinny, saccharine notes of "My Heart Will Go On" filled the air, and the couple's roughhousing came to an abrupt halt.

"…Ayaka-chan, please tell me you don't still have that horrible song for your ring tone."

Ayaka blushed and looked sheepish. "…I do. I guess I'd better take the call." She stood up, searching around for her cell phone.

"Don't," said Hiro. "It's probably Mr. K or Sakano trying to get a hold of me since I turned off my phone two hours ago. I swear, those two don't even know the meaning of 'taking a night off,' even when it's their idea to have one."

"It would be rude not to pick up," said Ayaka reluctantly, picking up her cell phone by its cute Bad Luck cell phone strap. She glanced on the telephone, where Nittle Grasper smiled, posed, and plugged their new album. Ryuichi spoke English surprisingly well.

Hiro tugged on Ayaka. "I want you to myself tonight," he whimpered, giving the perfect puppy dog look.

"Well, okay," said Ayaka, not really putting up a fight. She turned off the phone without checking to see who called, then joined Hiro on the couch, tugging his face towards hers, fingers tangling in his well kept reddish-brown tresses.

"Hey, you're messing up my hair!"

"And you love it!"

On the television, Nittle Grasper played a song about doomed and forbidden love. As usual, their performance was breathtaking, but Ayaka and Hiro were far too distracted to notice.

---

Shuichi sat up in bed, sighing hopelessly, running a hand through his disheveled locks. The bedclothes curled around him, damp with sweat, as he glared over the details of a room he'd spent the night memorizing: the blinds that seemed to shut out none of the city light, the mocking ceiling fan and the claw-like shadow it cast, the reading glasses on the far bedside table, the closet door left slightly ajar. He was in his apartment in Los Angeles, the one he shared with Yuki. His boyfriend was not in bed with him, and Shuichi could see the mellow light from the kitchen peeking underneath the bedroom door. Shuichi crept out of bed and tiptoed to the kitchen. He smiled at the sight of his lover sitting at the kitchen table, typing furiously on his laptop in his pajamas. "Don't you ever sleep, Yuki?" murmured Shuichi.

"Don't you?" Yuki shot back, with a soft sort of smirk on his face.

"Maybe if you'd come to bed with me," Shuichi whined.

"I have to finish this," said Yuki.

"You're on vacation! Your company gave you time off and you're officially on hiatus. It'll give your readers time to go back and reread their favorites of yours."

"I'm not going to sit around this apartment doing nothing while you work."

Shuichi approached Yuki from behind, looping his arms around his neck pressing his face into Yuki's shoulder. "I guess that makes sense, but working at," Shuichi took a cursory glance at the kitchen clock, "Three in the morning?"

"You're awake too," Yuki pointed out blandly.

"I can't sleep."

"Bad dreams?"

Shuichi fidgeted. "I haven't been able to sleep well since we got here. I think I'll do better once we start touring."

"Nothing's as good for rest as pure exhaustion," said Yuki. "You hungry?"

"A little. I guess."

"How do pancakes sound?" Yuki smiled only slightly, but it was an expression that Shuichi had come to love. He wasn't one for gifts and favors, his gruff demeanor put a lot of people off. But every once in awhile he showed a sweetness, especially when he wanted to give Shuichi something, even if it was just as fleeting as pancakes. There was a light in Yuki's heart that he preferred to keep buried, but at times like this, it shined through like a beacon in the dark.

Shuichi beamed. "Pancakes sound great."

Later, as they were quietly devouring their late-night pancakes, Yuki started a conversation for once in his life. "So… when do you think you'll be done recording?"

"Two weeks, unless Sakano gives himself a heart attack, then we'd have to make time for the funeral… or to visit him in the hospital, or whatever. Maple syrup!" Shuichi poured the sugary stuff all over his pancakes. He was still shocked at how cheap maple syrup was in the USA, and any excuse to use it made his eyes sparkle with childish delight.

Yuki couldn't help but feel a little relieved at Shuichi's goofiness. He was concerned that Shuichi wasn't sleeping well, but surely he couldn't be feeling too bad if he was just as easily entertained as ever. "I suppose there's still a lot of business to attend to after that, with the tour starting and all."

"Mmhmm!" Shuichi continued to consume his pancakes at a breakneck speed. He might have seemed distracted, but really he was listening to Yuki carefully. His boyfriend didn't often come out and say things directly. Yuki might think he as being clever and evasive, and that Shuichi was playing into his hand, but this was a game that Shuichi figured out long ago. All he really had to do was get the particulars out of Yuki, one detail at a time.

"Well, are you going to San Francisco?"

Shuichi was so excited that he forgot to be discreet. After all these years, that still happened a lot. "Why do you want to know? Are you rethinking what I said about getting married?"

Feeling cornered and embarrassed, Yuki immediately assumed a defensive position. "Why would I? The marriages have all been overturned anyway, it's not legal to do it there anymore."

Suddenly the pancakes didn't taste so good. They tasted lumpy and dry in his mouth, and Shuichi could barely choke them down. He had to take a long gulp of water from his glass before he could speak. "So… you really don't want to marry me, do you, Yuki?" His voice had taken on a wavering, dangerous quality that threatened tears. Shuichi's hair hid his eyes, and Yuki was afraid to touch him, brush away the hair and see the hurt in his gaze.

"Didn't we have this conversation a hundred times already? I love you, Shuichi. Why do you have to take the fact I don't want to sign a meaningless document as a sign that I don't? You know I love you. I just… don't see the point, when it means nothing to the rest of the world."

"Since when have you ever cared what the rest of the world thinks? It could be just for us!"

"What we have is already just for us, why do we need a piece of paper and a ceremony to validate it? That's playing by the rules of the world, like we we're not in love just because we're gay and can't be married." Yuki maintained his cold, bitter façade, while Shuichi threw himself into the fight like the passionate poet he was.

"That's not what this is about at all!" Shuichi practically shouted, standing and slamming his hands on the table.

"Then what is it? Are you that desperate to have sex in a wedding dress?"

Shuichi flushed, too angry to make a coherent argument. "Yuki Eiri," he said menacingly through his clenched teeth.

Just at that moment, the phone rang. Yuki picked it up and growled into the phone, "What?"

The voice on the other end was crackling and distant, but that didn't stop a certain arrogance from coming through. "Eiri. How did I know you'd still be awake?"

Yuki glared at the phone, turning away from Shuichi's accusatory stare. He recognized the voice, how could he not recognize his own sister? "This better be good."

"Look, before you get all pissed off, you're not even the first person I tried to call. I wanted to talk to Ayaka-chan but her cell phone's not on… I've tried to call her several times today."

More than a little displeased that Yuki was diverting his attentions, Shuichi demanded, "Who's that?"

Yuki grumbled, "It's my sister."

"What does she want?" Shuichi was honestly concerned. Mika was as nosy as older sisters got, but even she had better taste than to call at three in the morning, even if it was a different time in Japan.

"Let me find out." Yuki turned his attention back to the telephone. "Okay, you have five seconds to make your case with me."

"Do you have Tohma's new cell phone number?"

Yuki had wondered why Tohma had suddenly changed the number for his personal cell phone. As usual, Tohma kept in close contact with him, checking in on him every few days. It was odd that Mika would have lost it, she was as painstakingly organized as her husband. Something was definitely wrong with this picture. "You don't have it?"

"I think he's avoiding me, but I really need to talk to him." Mika was obviously agitated. Yuki was used to that, he was usually the source of the agitation. She rarely had complaints with Tohma, however.

"I'm not your errand boy," said Yuki simply. Unfortunately, the situation was not really that simple. Yuki didn't want to get involved, especially if it meant coming between his sister and his brother-in-law. On the other hand, he'd never thought Tohma would be so chicken as to not call his wife while he was away on a long business trip.

"What's wrong?" Shuichi pressed Yuki for answers, his concern (well, more like his curiosity) taking over his need to pout at his boyfriend.

"Nothing, just a lover's quarrel." Yuki attempted to shove the small crawling vocalist off his arm with little success. He said to the phone, "Mika, you're both adults, you can take care of yourselves. Next time you call me at three in the morning with something so inane, I'm not going to let you off so easily."

" I was stupid to think you'd help your own sister," Mika snapped. "Even now our family means nothing to you!" She slammed the phone down onto its cradle before Yuki had a chance to make further offensive remarks.

Tense with stress, Mika stared at the whiteness of her knuckles as they gripped the club of her telephone. Suddenly, a wave of nausea swept over her, and she bolted for the toilet, not bothering to shut the door of the washroom behind her before she became violently ill.

In her mind she ran over the conversation she had with Tohma the night before he left for New York a few weeks ago. They were eating dinner silently when Mika said, "I thought the other night was really nice, Tohma. We should do it more often. I feel like… I never get to be close to you anymore."

Tohma smiled at Mika in his cheerful, carefree-seeming manner. "It was nice, but Mika, you knew when we married that I would be very busy."

That smile was really starting to infuriate Mika. She'd come to understand the smile was a blast wall he hid behind. At one time she thought that she could be the one he didn't have to use it for, but clearly… "I know, but once or twice a year just isn't enough for me. And what about having children?"

Tohma noticeably stiffened at the mention of children, but he spoke as calmly as if he were dealing with an irate stockholder. "Many married couples in Japan are pleased with this arrangement, and besides, I thought we decided that we didn't want children."

"We'd only been married a year then! Father would really love to see a grandchild, and well, let's face it; Yuki and Tatsuha have no interest in becoming parents, which is probably a good thing. And I'm not going to be young forever…"

"What kind of life would you be bringing a child into, Mika? With me working all the time and you caught up in your family business? The child would have the best education that money could buy, the best toys, but would it be happy?"

"We could make adjustments. You've made enough money to retire for the next two thousand years. You could take a little break. We could make a child very happy, Tohma, we could be great parents."

"I don't want children," said Tohma firmly, yet without a single ounce of menace. Somehow, this just made Mika angry.

"Why did you even marry me? Don't you want to start a family? Don't you want a legacy?"

"My work is my legacy," said Tohma, clearing his plate from the table. "I married you because our parents wanted us to. When I married you, I did not agree to be your lover at your beck and call, or the father or your children, just your husband. I think our marriage is fine the way it is."

All Mika could do was stare blankly as Tohma washed off his dish and set it to dry in the sink. "Would you mind taking care of the dishes? I have some work to do."

"Tohma, don't you walk away from me! Tohma! Tohma!" But he was gone, and the memory faded into the sterile whiteness of tile and harsh lighting.

Mika poured herself a glass of water in the bathroom sink and sipped it, frowning at her pallid, greenish reflection. Her hair was slightly messy. As she leaned on the sink, her hand knocked something off the counter space. Gingerly, she bent down to pick it up. It was the pregnancy test she'd taken earlier today, the inspiration for the phone call that started this mess.

It read positive. She was pregnant.

Numbly, Mika flushed the toilet, and then turned off the light before going to the kitchen to make herself some tea.

To Be Continued. (sooner this time, I promise!)


	3. Chapter Three

Note: Michael is K and Judy Winchester's son. At the time of this story he's about 9 years old.

Vows

Chapter Three

The stage made Sakuma Ryuichi superhuman, he was sure of it. The spotlight was more than illumination; it was a halo. Supernatural strength flowed through his veins, his heart beating to the rhythm of the synthesizer. The melody circled around him and lifted him into the air. He offered himself to the audience wholesale and in return they gave him wings, and they flew with him. He could see it in their eyes. It didn't matter that they were Americans and didn't speak his language. They spoke the language of music, the dialect of dance. With these they communicated in a dizzy frenzy until the lights died, Ryuichi was led off stage, and the final encore was sung.

Ryuichi's gaze snapped back into focus. Backstage, it was all so different. He realized he was hungry. Also he was missing a certain companion. "Where's Kumagoro? I'm hungry! Can I have a snack?"

"What would you like to eat?" asked one of the many Japanese-speaking personal assistants sent to suck up to Nittle Grasper.

"Trifle! With lots of strawberries, ehehehe!"

"Don't let him have such sugary things before supper, he'll be wired and spoil his appetite," Noriko contradicted. In the corner of her vision, Tohma was threatening some poor stagehand in what he considered to be English.

"Find za bunny, or zere will be hell to pay. Find za bunny, or I fucking keel you."

"But, but, trifle!" Ryuichi whimpered, blue eyes filling with childish tears.

"Kumagoro BEAM!" Out of nowhere, the pink stuffed bunny collided with the tantrum-throwing vocalist. The source of plushie-born terror was soon discovered to be not only Shindou Shuichi, but also the rest of Bad Luck, as well as Usami Ayaka and even the elusive author known as Yuki Eiri.

"Shindou-kun!" Ryuichi squealed. "Did you like my singing? I got to sparkle! Sparkle, sparkle! You sparkled too!"

"You were so good, Sakuma-san!" The two vocalists were almost creating fireworks out of their own enthusiasm for the other's performance. "It's always so amazing to see you perform! You're my inspiration!"

"I think the Americans really like you, Shindou-kun! They can see you give it your all! I saw girls dressed up like Shuichi in the audience and got confused!"

"I knew setting up this Japanese music showcase was an excellent idea," K gloated.

"Just remember that we're still rivals, even if we performed on the same stage tonight!" Fujisaki pointed out with his typical competitive passion. Unfortunately, the young man's words were lost on a group of people who seemed much more intent on praising one another than any animosity.

"Noriko-san, you look amazing! I can't believe these brutes actually made you perform in your condition!" Ayaka gushed over the very pregnant Noriko.

"Are you kidding me? Tohma wanted to hire a session performer or even have Fujisaki-kun do it, but I wouldn't let him! This isn't some talk show performance after all! It's our last performance before we go on break!"

"How long is your break going to be? Long enough for you to have the baby, I hope!"

"Officially, we're going on break for three months, though if I feel like it I'll take four! I'm going back to Japan to have my baby and see my family, and Ryuichi's going to be in a musical here in New York. I'm not sure what Tohma is doing. I'm sure he'll keep busy, though. You know how he is."

"You mean he's not going back to Japan? I would have thought…" Ayaka scanned the crowd for Tohma's blond, smiling visage and found it was missing, along with another familiar figure with pale hair. "I wonder where Eiri-san and Tohma-san got off to…"

"What's wrong, Ayaka-chan?" Noriko asked, puzzled.

"Nothing," said Ayaka quickly, having more than enough social grace to not to blurt out anything scandalous.

"Yuki said he wanted to talk to Seguchi-san about something," blurted out Shuichi, and, lacking the social grace that Ayaka had been so gifted with, added, "It must be about his sister getting pregnant."

The crowd backstage went absolutely silent. Even the roadies didn't let out a cough.

"Can we get trifle now?" said Ryuichi. "Kumagoro demands trifle!"

---

At Eiri's behest, Tohma had ducked outside the venue into a narrow alley where the faded, brick face of the theater could be seen. The night was more than warm: the oppressive humidity of New York City summer bore down on the two pale-haired men. "Eiri-san, speaking to me alone? To what do I owe this unusual pleasure?" Even with his adoration and flattery, Tohma cut to the chase. He knew Eiri wouldn't have asked him out here just to catch up, as much as he wished the author would.

"Don't play stupid with me. You know what this is about." That was his Eiri, always so cheerful.

"I assure you I do not," said Tohma through his smile. "Care to enlighten me?"

"My sister. You changed your phone number and you didn't tell her."

"I didn't tell her? Oh my. It must have slipped my mind." Tohma stiffened almost imperceptibly, still smiling. "Silly me."

"It didn't slip your mind to give your number to me, so don't give me that bullshit. Look, I don't know what kind of adolescent quarrel you two are having, and I don't care, but I do know two things. One, it's below both of you. Two, Mika needs you right now. I don't know if anyone's told you, but you knocked her up and she's got the crazy idea that you don't want her carrying your baby. Noriko's going back to Japan to be with her spouse, and I suggest you do the same."

Tohma couldn't help but admire Eiri, how he lit a cigarette and leaned on the grimy bricks after eviscerating him. There was a man with some amazing walls. Still, there was some one whose walls he couldn't compete with.

"Eiri-san, do you remember the last time you were in the hospital?"

"Yeah," Eiri grunted, wondering where Tohma was going with this.

"I seem to recall you said that interfering in-laws is a leading cause of stomach ulcers. Now I wonder, does that go both ways?"

Eiri leaned back, rolling his eyes skywards. "That was different and you know it."

"How, precisely?"

"We're not talking about the state of my stomach lining, for one thing. We're talking about my sister, and possibly a nephew or niece on the way."

"And this makes it your business how…?"

A sigh of frustration escaped Eiri's lips in the visible form of a cloud of cigarette smoke. "I don't get you two. You've spent half of your lives taking care of me, and can't be assed to take care of one another."

"Eiri-san…"

"Don't 'Eiri-san' me," said Eiri sourly, his parody of Tohma's voice sharp and painfully accurate. "I've put up with you two acting like you think you're my mother, and believe me, neither of you are anything like my mother. Now it's my turn to stick my nose in your business. You go back to her, and you act like a husband, or I swear I will never speak to you again."

"And what would you know about being a husband, Eiri-san?"

If Eiri had an emotional response to that cutting remark, he didn't show it; then again, he never did. He flicked his cigarette, turning his back to Tohma. Like so many times before, Eiri just walked away.

---

Yuki liked to do other things when his boyfriend was talking. To Shuichi, every minute crumb of news he got from any friend or vague acquaintance was meaningless until shared with another. Considering Shuichi took upwards from 20 minutes to debrief him every time he returned from any social event, he found it best to find a second activity to make the time pass. Today, his chosen distraction was watching an American cooking show and taking notes. Yuki didn't like to copy the recipes directly, but he liked to watch professional chefs and draw inspiration for new experiments of his own.

"…And that's when Michael looked at me with those big blue eyes and said, 'When are you and Uncle Yuki going to get married, Uncle Shuichi?' It was the most adorable thing in the world! I wish you had stuck around for the after-show dinner, Michael is sooo cute and everybody misses you."

Yuki looked up from his yellow notepad, pen caught in mid-stroke. "I hope you told him that we can't get married, and that we don't plan to."

Shuichi squirmed on the couch, tucking one leg underneath him and hugging his ankle. "I said there are other ways to express love, not just getting married," he said quietly. "So then he said, 'Good! 'Cause weddings are boring!' Isn't that cute? He's going to be their ring-bearer. I'm so excited about the wedding. Ayaka just can't stop talking about it; it's going to be so pretty! She and Hiro are going to be so happy, I just know it! And I bet they'll have kids and we'll get to spoil them! And just imagine what the New Years is gonna be like! With their kid and Noriko's kids, and the Seguchi's--"

"They're not having it, so just get that ridiculous thought out of your head," Yuki interrupted.

"Noriko-san? Really? Isn't she too late in her pregnancy to--"

"No, stupid, Mika."

"Mika-san? Really? Is that what she told you?"

"I know my sister. I can tell she's not ready to have a kid."

Shuichi just stared at Yuki for a long moment. It was rare his lover spoke so candidly about anyone, especially two people as close to him as Mika.

"It bothers you, doesn't it?" said Yuki.

"Well, I wonder what your father's going to do. We can't have babies and with your brother the way he is, I thought Mika-san would be the one to carry on the family line. I guess it would technically still be broken, but at least it wouldn't be gone. And poor Mika-san. Seguchi-san too. He's given me a lot of trouble in the past, but nobody should have to make this decision. I'm sure it's not something either of them is taking lightly. I wouldn't say it bothers me, though."

"I wasn't talking about that. It bothers you that Ayaka-chan goes on about the wedding, doesn't it?"

"What?"

"It's written all over your face. You're jealous because Hiro proposed to Ayaka even though they haven't been together as long as we have."

"I-- No, Yuki, I--"

"I know how you think about these things. You're wondering if I even love you as much as Hiro loves Ayaka-chan."

Shuichi jumped up, eyes filled with tears. "How could you even say that, Yuki? I know that you're not into marriage, so I dropped it! Maybe I'm a little jealous because everyone's paying so much attention to Ayaka-san and Hiro right now, but mostly I'm happy for them! Because it's what they want, and that's what's important!"

"They're just kids, how do they know what they want?"

"They're in love, isn't that all that matters?" This is how their fights always went: Shuichi found himself yelling while Yuki's voice just got softer, more sarcastic.

"They have no idea what they're getting into. In a couple of years, you're going to have to hear the same sob story I have to listen to now."

Shuichi forced himself to take a slow breath and calm down. "This isn't about Ayaka-san and Hiro is it? It's not even really about me. You're upset about your sister, and Seguchi-san."

Yuki didn't say anything. He set his notepad down on the table. He sat back on the couch, running a hand through his hair and staring at the ceiling.

"Hiro and Ayaka-san are different. They love each other."

"Mika loves Tohma," Yuki murmured.

"But Seguchi-san doesn't love your sister."

"Why would he marry her if he didn't love her?" Yuki was still covering his face. Shuichi was almost glad for that. He was sure the expression beneath that hand would be enough to break his heart. He knew Yuki hated being that vulnerable.

Shuichi frowned, furrowing his brow. "You didn't think they married for reasons other than the arrangement, did you Yuki? Not _you_. You're so cynical, you surely didn't believe…"

"That's right, I'm such an idiot, rub it in, but tell me this: Why else would he stay in our screwed up family if he didn't love Mika?"

"Oh, Yuki." Shuichi dropped to his knees, throwing his arms around Yuki's waist. "I thought all this time that you understood why he stayed in your family but you were just embarrassed to say it. How could you not know?"

"I… don't understand."

"He doesn't love Mika-san, not like that. I thought it was obvious."

"What do you know that I don't know, Shu-chan?" Very slowly, Yuki ran his fingers through Shuichi's hair.

"The truth," Shuichi whispered.

---

Tohma stepped into the elevator his apartment building in Tokyo, dragging his suitcase behind him on wheels. He nearly bumped into the elevator attendant, who was bunched up in the corner of the elevator, sobbing quietly into a tissue. Though he had lived there for years, he had to remind her of his floor number, more than once.

The door to the apartment he shared with Mika was unlocked. This was fairly unusual, and caused a raised eyebrow on Tohma's part. Though the building had the best security in the city, he always insisted they keep their apartment locked, and Mika always remembered.

"Mika-san? Are you home?" Tohma slipped off his shoes, and, neither hearing nor seeing any sign of his wife, left his suitcase in the entryway to look for her. He knocked on the toilet door, then the bath. No sign of her. Then again, both of them had a habit of keeping the place meticulously clean.

The last room he came to was her bedroom. The light from the hall cast his shadow across the darkened room. His eyes went wide as the shock hit him. "Mika-san?"

To Be Continued.

---

Special thanks to my beta-readers and long-time internet pals Kuri and Michael. Kuri, thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule to beta for me even though I'm pretty sure you've wanted to kill me at least 5 times since I asked you to beta the last chapter. Michael, thank you for being my Guild Wars girlfriend, and for late-night chats spent sending each other pictures of kittens and puppies while simultaneously discussing sexism in film and war movies, and for kicking the ass of idiots who are mean to me on livejournal.


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